


Drunken Confessions

by StoriesbyNessie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drunk Draco Malfoy, Drunken Confessions, First Kiss, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Insecurity, M/M, Past Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26124961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesbyNessie/pseuds/StoriesbyNessie
Summary: Ron gets the surprise of his life when he leaves a party, tired and moody. Draco follows him. Hogwarts 8th-year short one-shot.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 158





	Drunken Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A short one-shot written for Weasleys, Witches and Writers on Facebook. Prompt: I love you! You’re only saying that because you’re drunk.

Somebody had snuck in Firewhiskey and loads of other alcoholic beverages inside the walls of the castle. Inside the walls of the Gryffindor common room where they currently had a party. The music was loud, and people sat in each other’s laps, and they snogged, and Ron had just witnessed Seamus Finnigan slurp up a body shot out of Lavender Brown’s navel.

His ex-girlfriend’s navel.

And it wasn’t weird. No, bloody hell, Ron didn’t think it was weird at all. It wasn’t like his and Lavender’s relationship had been real anyway, had it? All the same, his hands had balled into fists at the sight, and he had turned his gaze away. He might not fancy Lavender anymore, but did she have to make it so bloody obvious that she was an attractive girl and could get anyone she wanted while Ron was depressingly ugly and alone? _Did she have to rub it in his fucking face?_

Hermione hadn’t wanted him either. She claimed their only kiss had been a heat of the moment thing and surely he’d understand? Hermione had decided that they didn’t fit together, and Ron couldn’t help but feeling like he had been thrown away. And ever since Harry got his shit together with Ginny and only seemed to have eyes for her nowadays, Ron felt extremely alone.

It had been a really rubbish idea to return to Hogwarts after the war. All they had done so far was partying and getting madly drunk, and they barely studied; even Hermione had loosened up with it, and that wasn’t like her. Ron was tired of the parties and moody and sulking, but his mum would clip him round the ear if he showed up at the Burrow without a diploma. He never thought the day where he actually cared about books or homework would come, yet here they were.

Ron was the only one who was sober tonight, and he hated it. But he also hated the thought of drinking and behaving like a proper loony together with the others. He wasn’t in the mood for any of it, and he certainly wasn’t in the mood for how much this party had grown in size since it started.

Not only were there Gryffindors inside the common room right now but also Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and… _Slytherins._ Fucking Slytherins. That meant Zabini, Parkinson and Malfoy, among others. Ron couldn’t stand Malfoy’s little ferret-face and _especially not_ when he wasn’t drinking.

By the looks of it, Malfoy had got a few too many too, the way he was moving. He could barely walk in a straight line, and his cheeks had a pink tint to them. Ron had watched Malfoy all night and seen how many glasses of Firewhiskey he’d been downing. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it made him a tad worried; but this was _Malfoy,_ so why should he care?

No, Ron didn’t care about that. He didn’t care how drunk Malfoy was or if it was dangerous and this bloody party could go fuck itself. He rose angrily from his chair and headed for the portrait hole.

“I’m going for a walk!” He announced to no one in particular. His voice was immediately drowned out by the loud music, and everyone was too busy with themselves to notice anything about him.

Ron climbed out of the portrait hole, desperately in need of fresh air. He was starting to get a headache, some fresh air would do him good.

“Weasley!” A voice called from behind when Ron had almost reached the staircase. Ron turned to see who it was and was surprised to see Malfoy stumble towards him with all the grace of a drunken hippogriff. His eyes were glazed, his blond hair on end and he walked so fast he tripped over his own feet but managed in the last minute to steady himself by gripping Ron’s shoulders.

Malfoy smelled strongly of the alcohol he’d been drinking, and Ron wanted to push him away. He didn’t. Instead, he put his hands on either side of Malfoy’s body to help him steady himself. He wanted to say something, but Malfoy put a finger to Ron’s lips, shushing him.

“No,” he said, surprisingly firmly even though he slurred and couldn’t quite focus his eyes. “I need to tell you something, Weasley so… shhh. Listen. Don’t move. Listen.”

Ron stood, waiting and barely had time to process that he was still holding Malfoy when the Slytherin's lips crashed against Ron’s in an incredibly clumsy kiss. Ron, too shocked to move, remained still as Malfoy reached for his ear, nibbled his earlobe and said in a low, seductive voice: “I’ve always wanted to do that… I love you, Weasley…”

Malfoy’s voice in his ear made Ron involuntarily shudder, even though he knew what state Malfoy was in and this wasn’t real, and it was certainly not him. Ron wasn’t sure what sexuality Malfoy had really, but would he _really_ fancy Ron if he was gay?

Why would he? Nobody fancied him ever. Ron was an idiot and too tall and insecure.

So he said the only sensible thing he could think of in that very moment.

“You’re only saying that because you’re drunk, Malfoy.”

_This won’t mean anything to you tomorrow._

Malfoy shook his head, grabbing Ron by the front of his robes. He swayed a bit. “No, I don’t. I needed to drink to work up my courage to get this far, so just shut up and… _Your eyes are so blue!”_

Malfoy gazed up into Ron’s eyes, and for the first time that night, it made Ron smile. He couldn’t help it. Drunk or not, it was pretty cute.

It was strange how it made Ron feel like he was someone, after all. Like he was… _seen._

It didn’t make any sense, but he actually liked it.

_Fin_


End file.
